


Game Night

by suckitdomitian



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2808275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckitdomitian/pseuds/suckitdomitian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Game night has become a tradition on the Bus. But not all games work when played on a moving aircraft. Or do they?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game Night

“You realize, even with May keeping the Bus perfectly level, that’ll be next to impossible to pull off,” the skepticism in Ward’s features and voice just made Fitz feel the urge to prove it was possible even stronger.

Game night had become a bit of a tradition among the team. It had started very much by accident one night. Ward had been playing a game of solitaire only to have Fitz butt in with a wisecrack about whether the only person Ward knew how to play with was himself. The night had evolved quickly, from bickering to dueling blackjack to a full team poker game. It had been one of the first evenings together they’d had where they had actually gotten along more than they had fought, and even the arguments that they’d had had that night had been good natured. While cards had been their start, it hadn’t taken long for them to all discover Ward’s peculiar and amusing love of old fashioned board games, and each off duty stop back in the real world had added another game to the storage closet in the lounge. Including the Jenga game that Fitz was now suggesting that they put to use.

“One good air pocket, and the whole tower will come tumbling down no matter how few bricks are pulled out of it,” Ward continued, ignoring the annoyed crinkle of Fitz’s nose.

“Not if we’re creative with the set-up,” Fitz said, making a face at Ward. “Just because it says we’re supposed to put it in a tower doesn’t mean we have to. A pyramid will work just as well.”

Confused looks circulated through the room, and they didn’t get much better as Fitz explained the process that he’d come up with for playing Jenga on a surface that would never be completely flat. Devised as a pyramid formation, Fitz proposed that each brick taken from the stack would be required to move up at least one level from where it was removed, a matter which would eventually leave the pieces just as top heavy as a regular tower would be but in a formation that had far more leeway to give should the Bus come across a small patch of turbulence or their flight pattern would necessitate a drop in altitude.

“See. Simple, really?” Fitz said to finish off the lengthy explanation, beaming despite the way that the others were still blinking in the face of it. Looking between Ward, Skye, and Jemma, sparing a glance back at a quietly amused Coulson who was settled in one of the lounge chairs with a book in hand, Fitz cleared his throat before setting up his proposed pattern. “It’ll make sense once we start playing. Promise.”

“Fine,” Ward said, beaming at Fitz, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “But if this stack falls for any reason other than one of us pulling out the wrong piece, I retain the right to say ‘I told you so’.”

“Or we could make it interesting,” Fitz sniped, ignoring Skye and Jemma rolling their eyes at the both of them. “If I’m right, you do lab clean-up for the next week. If you’re right, I’ll do… What do you even take care of?”

Ward scowled, “I’ll think of something.”

One round, two rounds, three rounds in. It didn’t take all of them very long to forget about the bickering and the bet once the focus had turned to maintaining the balance of the stack. For a while, Fitz was right. Laying the pieces out in a wider base maintained stability, allowed for the pile to shift along with the flow of the plane without falling over, but eight, nine, ten rounds in, the situation had become precarious. More top heavy than there was base anymore, the game had become a desperate balancing act that a smug engineer was winning. The only one out of the four whose grasp was deft and placement even surer, it was all too obvious that Fitz thought that one way or another, he was going to win this.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen rounds in, May slipped from the kitchens, mug of tea in hand, as she walked past the table, sweeping her gaze briefly over the small group assembled. Fitz was beaming, reaching out and plucking a piece from the third highest level, leaving the pyramid balancing uncertainly on two remaining pieces.

“Not much more to go before you’re all going to have to admit defeat,” Fitz said, practically preening as he peered at the stack before laying the piece carefully across the top, balancing it cleanly on another single piece, finger in place to hold it so he could make sure it was secure. “My grasp of physic is simply superior.”

The bump was barely noticeable. Certainly not a pocket of turbulence or anything that they had prepared for. No. It was a simple knock against the table that sent the tower tumbling down, Fitz’s hand hovering in the air, finger poised where his piece had once been.

Cheers erupted from around the table, laughter echoing in the small space, as Fitz sat there dumbfound.

“Whoops,” was May’s simple apology before she went to take her seat.

“So. Fitz,” Ward said, rubbing his hands together as he beamed across the table at the young scientist. “About that bet.”


End file.
